Author: Bobby Akart

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the bed. She poured herself another scotch and lit a second cigarette. She took a long drag on the smoke and tilted her head back as she exhaled. The wispy trails of gray floated into the air until they came into contact with the heat generated by the candle nearby. The two forces combined to create an odd dance above the candlelight.

Never let a good crisis go to waste.

Lindsey couldn’t recall who made the statement, but it certainly made sense. She’d always had a vision for the Keys that couldn’t be implemented due to the constraints of politics and silly things like the Constitution.

Nuclear winter certainly was the kind of crisis a politician could use to effectuate change on a major scale. Compounding the suffering with a devastating hurricane that came without warning provided the impetus to exercise control like she never imagined. She knew what was best for the Keys and its residents.

That was why she felt it was necessary to isolate the island chain from the rest of the country. The fewer people who were present in her newly created fiefdom, the easier it would be to control them.

Naturally, she expected to piss off the administration in Washington. Frankly, she was surprised when they’d reacted the way they did to her simple roadblocks. She’d heard rumors of those independent-minded Texans trying to close their borders off to refugees. That was an entire state giving Washington the middle finger. The president should be focusing his attention on those people.

Yet, when she’d learned he was sending a large contingent of National Guard troops from outside Florida, she assumed he had every intention of displacing her as the chief executive of Monroe County. The president didn’t understand her use of the checkpoints and roadblocks, nor did he appreciate the need to evict noncitizens.

Perhaps the last straw was during a phone call before the grid collapsed when she’d shouted at the president’s do-boy, Chief of Staff Harrison Chandler, “You do you, and we’ll do us. Stay in your own lane!” After that, Lindsey had stopped taking phone calls from Washington and got prepared to defend the Keys, and her job, from outsiders.

She stood naked in front of the window overlooking the pool and the beach. The soft glow of solar-powered landscape lighting found its way to the top floor of the building. She was surprised there was sufficient sunlight to power them. She took another sip of scotch and leaned against the glass door, which was cold on her hip. She desperately wanted to open the sliding glass doors to listen to the waves lapping on shore, but the air quality was poor.

Blowing up the bridges had not been completely her idea. It had been his. For years, she’d been attracted to the man who was sprawled out in her bed, blissfully sleeping after a hard evening’s work in bed.

Despite their longtime acquaintance, the opportunity had never presented itself, as he’d moved away for a time and she’d married a local man. After her divorce, dating wasn’t even on her radar, as she intended to climb the political ladder as far as it would take her. Men, she decided, would be a distraction, and the wrong man would be a political liability. Yet she still enjoyed a man’s touch from time to time.

Then he’d returned to the Keys. A chamber of commerce event followed by several drinks at Nine One Five on Duval Street had brought the two of them together. They’d become reacquainted as friends with benefits, as the saying goes. It was a mutually agreeable affair to be kept quiet and out of public view, as neither could afford the scrutiny of city leaders or the community.

In addition to their sexual encounters, they became sounding boards for one another. Rarely did she make an important decision regarding Monroe County without his input. They analyzed every aspect of her political actions, and she provided him similar advice when requested. They had a great relationship that worked best if it was kept undercover, so to speak.

Now, he’d helped her implement her plans of making the Keys a better place during the collapse and into the future. She would reward him with her loyalty as well as her love. It was a partnership that sprang out of too many shots of Goldschläger, but one that endured thanks to mutually beneficial interests.

“Hey, what time is it?” her lover asked with a raspy, sleepy voice.

“I don’t know, late. Or early. Depending on how you look at it.”

“Come back to bed,” he plead with her as he moved the covers to clear a spot.

“Why? Is there something you need from me?” she asked with a chuckle.

He laughed. “More of the same, please.” He rose onto his elbow and patted the bed again.

Lindsey put out her cigarette and swigged the last of her scotch. Without another word, she slid into bed next to Sheriff Jock Daly and picked up where they’d left off a couple of hours ago.

THANK YOU FOR READING NUCLEAR WINTER: DEVIL STORM!

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VISIT my feature page at Amazon.com/BobbyAkart for more information on my other action-packed thrillers, which includes over forty Amazon #1 bestsellers in forty-plus fiction and nonfiction genres.

NUCLEAR WINTER: DESOLATION, the epic finale in this survival thriller.

Available on Amazon

Other Works by Amazon Charts Top 25 Author Bobby Akart

Nuclear Winter

First Strike

Armageddon

Whiteout

Devil Storm

Desolation

New Madrid (a standalone, disaster thriller)

Odessa (a Gunner Fox trilogy)

Odessa Reborn